


How It All Began

by jlillymoon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1962783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlillymoon/pseuds/jlillymoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short fic for letswritesherlock  challenge 14</p>
            </blockquote>





	How It All Began

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mafm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mafm/gifts).



> Just a little piece about what could have happened with the stag night and John and Sherlock telling their children what happened... The pg version. A gift for my wonderful beta mafm. You rock!

Chapter 1 - Introductions

Will sat at the kitchen table at 221B Baker Street and looked at his Dad. Noah, Will's fiancé was talking with Father and Will's older brother in the sitting room. "Dad, tell me about your stag night." Will asked.  
"Which one? " John countered. Will's blue eyes widened and looked at his father and back at his dad.  
"What do you mean which one?" Will asked carefully. His auburn hair fell into his face and he brushed it back with a practiced move.  
"I had two. One with Uncle Greg and a few other mates before your father and I married and one with your father when I was engaged to Mary." Will nodded his head slightly. He had heard his parents mention Mary from time to time, but there wasn't much more information than that. Hamish looked across the room at his brother. As twins, there was a bit of a connection between them and he sensed something was up. Will motioned for Hamish to join him and their dad in the kitchen. Hamish crossed the flat and sat next to his brother.  
"I was asking Dad about his stag night," Will began, "since mine is next week and he asked me which one I was interested in hearing about."  
"I don't understand." Hamish answered. John shook his head with a smile and went into the sitting room. The boys followed. John sat his aging frame into his chair and Sherlock smiled at him.  
"All right?" Sherlock asked his husband.  
"Will was asking about my stag night." John told his husband. "But our boys became a bit confused when I asked them which one they wanted to hear about." Sherlock nodded his head in a knowing way.  
"You both know that your sister Anabell has a different mother, right?" Both the boys nodded their heads. " Her mother and I were married. Your father took me out for a stag night before I got married."  
"It seemed appropriate at the time." Sherlock answered. Noah looked confused.  
"Let me see if I understand." Noah started. "I know a bit of the family history. I just want to follow it." Sherlock held up his hand.  
"John came home from military service, joined me in a flat, we lived together for two years. I died. I came back. John married. Anabel was born. He divorced. We married. John's sister carried the twins. Here we are. Questions?" Noah looked stunned.  
"Thank you father for being succinct as always." Will stated. Hamish laughed.  
"So, Dad, tell us about which ever stag night has the better story." John smiled at Hamish.  
"Noah, you still have time to run screaming from this family." Anabel said from the door. She smiled at her younger brothers and her parents. She came into room and kissed everyone hello before settling herself on the sofa.  
"What are you doing here?" Hamish asked.  
"Father said to come for family dinner. But I didn't realize there was story time too."  
"Hal, don't be mean to your sister." John warned. "But I think, I'd rather tell you about my first stag night."  
John and Sherlock regaled their children with the tell of the drunken stag night and ended it with them being released from the drunk tank by Lestrade. They had a pleasant take away with their family and sent them on their way.  
John settled into his chair after making himself and his husband a cup of tea.  
"John," Sherlock asked. "Why didn't you tell our children the most interesting and best part of the Stag night?"  
"And which part would that be?" John asked, teasing.  
"The part where we..." Sherlock started. John gave him an endearing smile.  
"Shall I tell them about our sex life?" John countered. Sherlock chewed on his lower lip and shook his head. "Thought not. But I tell you what, the magazine in America is asking for a new story and they asked for something more personal. Shall I write it up for them?" Sherlock tilted his head and gave John a smile.  
"Does not matter to me. With your prose it will be more or less embellished to begin with and most of the truth obscured."  
"That's what you say. But writing has given us a comfortable living." Sherlock nodded and kissed his husband on his way past as he went to work on some experiment in the kitchen. John pulled out his lap top and began to write.  
Chapter 2 - The Story

 

Sherlock rose before John as he often did. He noted that John had left his lap top out and the document he had been working on open for Sherlock to read. Sherlock sat on the sofa and placed the laptop on his lap and began to read.  
"Sherlock had returned after he had been away for two years. Most of you know the story of Sherlock Holmes the hero, but very few know of the man that I fell in love with and I am proud to call my husband. This is the story of my drunken stag night from my first marriage. What does this have to do with Sherlock and our love, you ask? Nothing and everything. It's the night that we didn't talk about for some time and it was the night that changed our lives, forever.  
Sherlock had a brilliant idea that we should embark on a pub crawl, the theme of which was to have a drink in every street where we found a body. Sherlock had even enlisted the help of our friend Molly to calculate the exact amount of drinks we could have without getting into trouble. And that didn't work. We were drunk and almost passed out before two hours. We had stumbled home and we were sitting in our front room, playing a guessing game. For the most part it was funny. Sherlock isn't often funny, but when it's just us, we laugh a lot. We have a lot in common and a wickedly morbid sense of humor is just one thing.  
But it was one part of this night, that I have kept private for a long time. It has been locked away in my heart for a long time and I want to tell the world.  
Sherlock had sat back in his chair. Drunk Sherlock was terrible at guessing games and it had been a disaster. His eyes were half closed and he had a wicked smile on his lips. I was slumped in my chair and I felt boneless and quite loose.  
'John, I should tell you something.' Sherlock said to me. 'But I won't do it. I'm afraid of telling you.'  
'Afraid of telling me what?' I asked him.  
'Afraid of telling you how much I love you.'  
'Love me?'  
'Yes, John, I love you. I thought you knew that.'  
I shook my head. 'I do know that. But I am wondering why you haven't said anything before.'  
'I couldn't.' Sherlock said. I noted that Sherlock was more relaxed than normal and even his usual inhibitions seemed to be more untroubled than normal. I thought this was  
a moment that I could ask him anything and I would get the truth, the whole truth. It was tempting and needed. Sherlock often only tells me a portion of the truth.  
'For how long have you loved me?' I asked.  
'Since the day you shot the cabbie.' Sherlock answered. 'At least that's what I can trace it back. But it wasn't until I was standing on the roof at Bart's that I knew for sure.' I nodded my head. That was the point that I realized it myself. But I was still angry at Sherlock at times for dying that day. And suddenly I was angry again.  
'Why? Why now?' I demanded. Sherlock looked as if I had struck him.  
'I... I don't know.' he answered. I softened a bit and I sat back a bit.  
'Do you know?' I asked him.  
'I suspected. Until now. And you just confirmed it for me.' Sherlock leaned towards me a bit. I noted that his eyes were shot wide with dark pupils and lust in his eyes. 'When?' he asked.  
I licked my lips and Sherlock growled across from me. I smiled a bit and Sherlock shook his head and closed his eyes. 'What you do to me.'  
'You said you weren't interested.' I said. Sherlock twisted his mouth. 'That first night in Angelo's.'  
'I was lying. I didn't want to come on too strong.' I laughed at this.  
'Too strong.' I smiled at him and he smiled back. 'Everything you do is too strong. So why did you think that you needed to hold back?'  
'I liked you from the first moment you stepped into the lab at Bart's. However, I didn't want to ruin it. And then the whole thing about being married to my work. Foolish.'  
'Yes.' I agreed. 'But you still haven't answered me. Why tell me all this now?'  
'Because I can.' He said. 'But you haven't answered me either. When did you realize?'  
'At first it was during the issues with Irene Adler. But confirmation was when I decked the superintendent for you. I knew that I would only do that for someone I love.'  
Sherlock came closer to me. We were sharing the same air and there was only an inch between our lips. I licked mine again and Sherlock's face changed. He leaned forward, closing the space between us.  
Our first kiss. It was chaste in retrospect. Our lips brushed against each other. But his lips. Shakespeare himself could write sonnets about his lips. The Cupid's bow that screams to be licked and sucked. I did just that.  
We kissed for some time. Stopping, breathless against each other, our foreheads touching. We caught our breath and looked each other in the eye.  
'I do love you.' I said. 'But I am not leaving Mary. I love her as well.'  
'I do not expect you to leave her. I only wanted one moment for me. To be selfish and to let you know what I am thinking of. To be completely honest and naked in front of you. If you come to me, if you choose me instead of her...' I noted the tears in his eyes. His voice was raw and rough in the next moment. 'I would be the happiest man alive. But I will not ask this of you.'  
I leaned back. 'Sherlock...' I couldn't voice the rest of my jumbled thoughts. I didn't have to. Sherlock looked at me as he understood.  
'I love you, John.' he said. I nodded, leaned in for another kiss.  
'We never speak of this again.' I said. 'Can you do this for me?'  
'I can.'  
We heard Mrs. Hudson downstairs open and close the door. We looked at each other, drunk, kiss swollen and teary eyed. I began to giggle to think of Sherlock looking so debauched. It was a good look on him. He joined me in my mirth and we were both laughing as Mrs. Hudson showed our client in.  
A year later when my wife left me for her lover, I was left with a daughter and freedom to explore the love Sherlock and I had declared that night. We have been married for some twenty years now and have a beautiful daughter and two fine sons. We have tried to raise them to understand there should be nothing left unsaid. Truth is the best, even if it hurts. And I believe that we have.  
So, the questions I can see on your minds. Did we have sex that night? Well, not directly. We did the next day. Sober and loving and perfect. But that next evening, I went home with Sherlock"s kisses still on my body and finished the commitment I made to the woman I loved.  
I hope that Sherlock understands how hard that choice was for me. And knows that I love him."

Sherlock closed the laptop and picked up the cup of tea that John had placed at his side.  
"So?" John asked. Sherlock smiled.  
"Perfect as always."Chapter 3- Confirmation

Anabel sat back on her sofa and looked at her brothers and Noah. They had all just read the most recent online account of their Dad's. Neither John nor Sherlock knew that the kids had found the American Magazine that paid for the stories that John wrote about his adventures with his husband.  
"Wow." Hamish said after a moment.  
"I second that." Noah said. He pulled Will towards him and gave him a kiss. " So tragic and romantic."  
"It's something else." Anabel agreed. She closed her eyes for a moment. A tear rolled down her cheek.  
"What's wrong?" Hal asked.  
"If Dad and Father had gotten together for life that night, I might not be here." she said.  
"Oh." Will said. "I hadn't thought of that." Anabel nodded.  
"It doesn't matter." she said. "It's a beautiful story. And it makes me appreciate their love for each other more. They fought and sacrificed for it. It was already stronger than most love between two people than I ever knew. But it sets it in a whole new light. I think we need to tell them that."  
The twins looked thoughtful for a moment and nodded. Anabel took her laptop and placed it on the table so that they all could see the screen. After a bit of scraping of furniture, they hit the send button on Skype and rang their parents.  
"Well, Hello!" John said. He was heard calling for Sherlock. They both came into view on the screen. "Look dear, all our children are calling. To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?"  
"Dad, we just finished reading the missing scene from your stag night story." Hamish said.  
"How?" John asked. Sherlock twisted his face into a grin.  
"Anabel, how long have you been getting the magazine online?" Sherlock asked. Anabel smiled at her father and giggled.  
"Since the first time I found it while googling Dad." Anabel explained. "I get an alert every time something is published. Then we get together and read it."  
"Our children are sneaky." John said. Sherlock kissed the top of John's head.  
"Not sneaky, love. Proud of their Dad." The three faces on the other side of the screen nodded in agreement.  
"Dad, why didn't you tell us the whole story?" Will asked. "It is a beautiful story."  
"That it is." Sherlock agreed. John smiled.  
"It took some time to put it into words." John admitted.  
"It makes me so much more understanding of your love for each other. Just how hard you fought for it." Anabel said. John smiled.  
"I do love your father." John said.  
"And I him." Sherlock agreed. Sherlock mobile rang and he stepped away to answer it. The kids chatted with their dad for a while until Sherlock laid his hand on John's shoulder.  
"Donovan needs us." Sherlock said. The kids said goodbye to their fathers and watched them go.  
Anabel sat back on the sofa, sipping her wine. "Bloody hell. Please tell me you don't have anything like that from your stag night."  
"My stag night was nothing more than a drunken night at the pub, followed by a hangover to kill. Nothing exciting happened." Will admitted. Anabel laughed. She kissed her brothers and her brother in law.  
John and Sherlock went to the crime scene and were brilliant. Sherlock solved the case and they settled into their sofa that evening. "Happy?" Sherlock asked.  
"More than I could ever dreamed of being." John admitted. Sherlock kissed the top of John's head and they settled into watching the tellie.


End file.
